Times Like This
by TheAlphaWrites
Summary: Laying in bed, Tony and Steve admit how they feel. Steve/Tony. Written for love bingo prompt: declaration of love


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thank you to WithinHerHeart for beta reading! :)**

**This was inspired by the love_bingo prompt: decalaration of love, and a gif of Tony and Steve doing the same - you can find this on my tumblr page XD**

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The room had settled into a comfortable silence, the two bodies laying in their respective sides of the large King sized bed. His face half buried in his pillow, Tony had the perfect view of the much larger blond beside him. The light from his arc reactor cast an eerie glow over Steve's angular features, highlighting the long eyelashes that rested against his unmarred cheeks and his full lips that parted with each breath. Even though he was there, right in front of him, Tony still found it hard to believe that Captain America was in his bed.

It had been nearly a year since Tony had reluctantly offered his childhood home up as temporary accommodation for the other Avengers, which he had recently admitted, maybe wasn't so temporary. He couldn't completely tell you when Steve had moved from his room at the other end of the house, to the master bedroom; he couldn't even tell you when he and Steve had changed from hating each other, to sharing some strange mutual respect, to having sex on any surface that was within reach. It was an unusual series of events, even by Tony's standards, but he still couldn't bring himself to feel anything but contentment at how everything had turned out.

It had been rocky and hard for them both to cope – especially with Tony's inability to follow direct orders and Steve's overbearingly controlling personality, specifically when he thought he was right – and there were often periods of chilly silences and frosty words between the two of them, but it was always ended up like this: together, curled beneath the 100% Egyptian cotton sheets.

Tony still half expected the other man to realise how broken he was, how he could do so much better, but he never said anything, wanting to hold onto it for as long as possible. He had hardly been the one for domesticity, but now, he wanted nothing more. And Steve seemed to be just as happy with the arrangement, despite everything.

The man still held the morals and attitudes of a forties man. Whilst Tony had always known he wasn't picky about his bed partners, it had never really been a problem before; Steve had to fight through the homophobic views of the time period and seemed to have finally reached a point where he was at ease with his emotions; when he felt comfortable enough to allow himself to be held, to allow their relationship to go public, to actually spend a night in his lover's bed.

Closing his eyes, Tony could remember the thrill that had shot through him when he felt those lips on the back of his neck, unabashed in their tender action in front of their mixed audience. His lips twitched upward.

"I can hear you thinking," Steve's voice broke through the silence.

Tony blinked his eyes open to see the mirth filled blue eyes and the barely there dimples that appeared with his wonderful smile.

"It's late, and we've had to deal with an alien army," Steve continued, "Is it possible for big brain to stop for a few hours and take a break?"

"Sorry," he whispered softly, "I didn't mean to keep you up."

Steve seemed to shake his head against the pillow a little. "You weren't keeping me up…" he paused to shuffle closer on the bed. His hand moved to lie awkwardly between them, not quite touching the other man but close enough to feel the heat of the arc reactor against his skin, "…what were you thinking about?"

Tony remained silent for a moment, shifting so he could bring his hand around to rest over the much larger one. He watched as their fingers slid together, interlocking, and made note of the contrast between their skin tones. He felt the subtle grip around him and breathed out a deep sigh, as if every stress and worry was rushing out of him.

"I'm just…wondering, I guess, about how much everything's changed," he mumbled, "I mean, for one, I never expected this to happen. Not that I'm complaining, of course, it was just a surprise – but, really, who expects to do the beast with two backs with an American patriotic? Well, I did, when I was a kid, but still, that's not really the point I'm trying to make…"

Steve arched an eyebrow in amusement, and waited patiently for the rest of the explanatory ramble. It was one of the things he loved about the man, the increased passion in his tone and the slight changes in pronunciation as he got lost in his train of thought, grabbing new ideas from what appeared to be thin air. It was impressive and just amazed him to watch. He tilted his head upward, silently encouraging further information, and he allowed his thumb to caress the length of Tony's little finger.

Tony couldn't suppress the shiver he felt at the fleeting touch; couldn't seem to calm the overzealous beating of his heart. His mouth felt dry and he swallowed nervously. Why? He wasn't sure. He could feel a clog in his throat that seemed to be forcing itself upward, trying to escape. A small feeling of panic filled him – the words seemed unknown to him, he couldn't place what he could want to say so desperately.

But by the time he realised, it was too late to take the words back.

"I love you."

Steve paused in his movements, the words stunning him. Three simple words that he had almost resigned himself to never hear leave Tony's mouth – it was understandable, really, especially given the stories he had heard about the other man's childhood. Tony continued to stare at him, gaze unwavering, but Steve could practically see the worry, mingled with hope, in the depths of his hazel eyes. He forced himself to relax and offered a small smile.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" his smile widened teasingly.

Tony sighed, closing his eyes. "Come on Steve! Don't make me say it again!" he mumbled, almost pathetically.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steve assured with mock innocence.

Tony's eyes narrowed and he grumbled under his breath, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, although he made sure to keep their hands connected. "You're a cruel man, Steve Rogers."

There was a moment of pause, before Steve closed the distance between them. He pressed the front of his body against his hip, draping his arms across Tony's chest. He rested his chin just below his collarbone, tilting his head slightly. The smile on Steve's face never faltered, even though Tony stared stubbornly at the ceiling and refused to look anywhere else.

"Hey," he whispered warmly, reaching up to gently encourage Tony to turn his head towards him. It was then that he reached up and claimed an open-mouthed kiss, enjoying the brief pressing of lips. He pulled back slightly, allowing their noses to rub together tenderly. "I love you too."

"Oh," Tony blinked a few times, "Oh, yes, okay then. Well, I, um," he cleared his throat nervously.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you to say it again," Steve joked, "Now, would you please kiss me."

When their lips touched, moans instinctively broke the silence, grips flexing to hold onto each other tighter. If there was one thing Tony enjoyed more than the comfortable silence that once surrounded them, were the choked moans that escaped Steve's open mouth to break it.

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